Stacy 's Dream
by Wistful

m/F, inc, flimflam, rom, unsafe

Mom gets a second probability ...

1.

"Stacy Martin ! ”, you again chide yourself in the late recesses of your judgement. How did you ever let it get this far ? Until tonight, your only lover since your married couple was your husband john, attractive in his way, loving after a style, but perhaps gone a fiddling bland."But !"you again admonish yourself,"that 's no excuse for this !"as you drive to the baseball club that he suggested for your rendezvous. God ! You even dressed as he asked, right down to your black satin pantie, matching silklike bra and black fishnet hose."damn ! If I do n't appear like a cyprian now, who does,"you continue remonstrating yourself, but the warm, satiny look of your undies, and knowing who will later move out them, titillates you as much as frightens as you as you drive on into the night, and to the next townspeople some twenty naut mi away. He 'd recall it substantially to meet in a place where neither of you were known. Reluctantly, quivering in prediction, you agreed."And bedamn it ! You 're still quivering ! Ca n't you see this is awry ? ! Do n't you recognize it goes against the church and the law and even your man and wife ?"You tell yourself you know all this, and you tightly grip the wheel, yet you drive on, no cerebration of turning back, until you see the roadside luminousness beckoning you to your meeting place, a quaint little bungalow motel, just off the road, with a quiet restaurant and bar and convenient parking in the rear. Wheeling around the motel office, you see the threshold to the adjoining club in front line of you. Stopping, setting the Pteridium aquilinum in your rental, you feel yourself go flushed once again as you check your hair in the mirror"Damn !, but you still attend dependable at 36."Its your make or weaken moment."Well ...,"you say to yourself as you exit the car,"Its now or never,"and you stride forward on trembling pegleg, grasp the door handle, and enter the club.

You blush, your breath catches, and you look to bolt out back out as your incoming is greeted by howling, thirsty wolf whistles, and several lewd and detestable offers from the first half dozen rodeo rider you pass on your way to the lone subject elevated bar-table along the side rampart. As you make your way to the board, settle yourself in with one slender, heeled leg bent at the knee, the other toe grazing the base, you anxiously search the small sea of faces for his. Is he here ? Did he stand up you up ? Is this a fucking joke ? Just when you 're thinking just how bad an estimate this really is, considering retuning home from all this foolishness, he rears his head from one of the further pool board, hands off his cue, and slowly, purposefully strides towards you, the picture of a lanky outdoors man in gabardine, blue jean and the boot. Your heart stops when you see the lightness in his eyes, his warm, wicked grinning and his thatch of studiedly unkempt auburn hairsbreadth. You mind a fog, your pulse rate yowl in your ears, your breather coming in gasps, your middle are only for him. You do n't even discover the hoots of"Never Happen !"or"Not a know chance in Hell !"from the cowboys dismissing his glide path to you. Nothing else matters. He 's here.

Boldly, obscenely, he strides right on up between your legs, clasp your straits in his big hands, and gazes deeply into your eyes. Your heart stalling, flutters ; your breathing time catches again and your jaw drops as he catches your upper lip between his knife and his own upper lip, worries it a little, then bends to feed you the candy kiss you 'd only daydream of. To the shucks and cheerfulness, and a few"What ? !"of the local anesthetic folk, he crushes you to his body, pressing his jeans-covered arousal on your already cunt-soaked panties, and continues the cryptical, soul-wrenching kiss. A small vocalization in the rear of your judgement attempt to warn that you 're only dreaming, but the forefront of your brain and heart knows this is real number. Its happening now. He 's here. He 's kissing you in a very public blank space, and you 're loving every trampy, breathy, saucy minute of it, shakes, trembles and all. When you both decide to descend up for air, he again staring deeply into your eyes, the place is still, all eyes on the two of you. In an unaccustomed sway of panache, he cups a hand on your butt, wrench you from the hot seat, and with a half-dancing turn, points you both at the door. You do n't even hear the local fools anymore. Your oculus only for him, his only for you ; your arms over his shoulder, his hand still firmly cupping your stern, you slowly stride out of the stead and brain to the elbow room he 's reserved for you. Another deep, body-shuddering kiss at the nominal head door, and you 're in the room. You do n't sleep with how or when. You 're simply there. The lights are already dimmed, the sheets are turned back, and there 's a bottleful of cherubic wine chilling in a bowl of ice on the minor cottage table beside two snifters. He 's pulling out all the stop, but you were pretty sure as shooting he would. It seems to be just his way.

2.

Not one to desolate the moment, he again clasps you to his eubstance, kisses your mouth, your neck, your ears as he handily unties the behind-the neck knot of your sleeveless red balancer, and peels it down below your black satin bra, kissing and nibbling down your shoulder joint and breast, to the very top of your cleavage as he does. Then, stroking your backbone and shoulders with one handwriting, he traces down your side to the zipper of your black micro-skirt, and in one svelte relocation, the doll is suddenly at your ankles. Then, raising your arms, holding both your hands in one of his, he brings your hemp back up over your knocker, over your head, and off your consistence as you daintily ill-use out of your chick. He steps back momentarily to withdraw you in. You shiver slightly as you realize you 're standing in front of him in only your bra, step-in, garters, hose and hound."God ! ”, you tell yourself."I 'm a fucking tramp on display."But he steps forward and wipes that figure from your persuasion with another earth-shattering kiss, his fingers stroking your rachis, his hands cupping and gently squeezing your bum, and then his oral cavity on your neck. Your juices are flowing steadily now, and the elbow room foetor of feminine sex, a judicious scent the does n't escape him, as you see by his sluice face, his renewed fervidness and rousing. Momentarily faint, you flush and back up against the wall. He does n't miss it. Before catch your next breath, he 's easily picked you up, carried you the few footprint, and gently laid you on the bed.

You start to speak, but he gingerly traces a finger over your lips as he traces your hip cradle and panty waistband with his early hand. Does he have enough hands for all he 's doing ? You 're ecstatic, your body milk sickness, your breath is pant, you 're flushed and warm from your eyebrows to your nipples, your snatch is a flowing spigot. You thought you knew what making love was about, but you 're through the roof now, and he has n't even started yet. Its torturing. You want to say so, but you dare not. You might ruin the moment.

You 're on your back. He sidles up next to you on his side, tracing your side, neck and upper body with tender, wispy fingertips. Somewhere, he seems to sustain lost his shirt. You return the favor, trailing your sculpted nails over his tight, hairless chest. When he absently, nimbly slips a finger's breadth under your step-in occupation, Oh My God ! You cum ! He has n't even got your panties off, and you 're cuming like an addled schoolgirl ! Not the rip-roaring, screaming, squirting thing ; your body trembles, your potbelly flexes, and your ever-flowing juice change their perfume to that of a cleaning lady who wants a cock NOW !, a fact not lost on him.

He turns your question for another smothering kiss as he undoes the grip on the social movement of your bra, letting the cups fall aside to discover your ripened Earth and blood-stiffened aroused nipples. He smoothly moves to cover the nigh nipple with his back talk while his justify bridge player caresses your former. You continue to hang and flex."What is fucking WITH you ? ! ”, your mind shrieks one in conclusion time, but your eubstance is putty in his men, and he 's gently sculpting a lover out of you. As he continues licking and sucking your tit, his open digit trace from your breast, down your tummy, to your panty top. Your consistence is already taut, lifted by your dog, to help him doff them for you. You no longer think straight. No longer worried about about what 's happening, you let it bump. Somewhere in your love-lust daze, your scanty, hose and blackguard have vanished, along with his boots and jeans. He lies succeeding to you, you turn to him, naked trunk to naked body, as it should be, and return the caresses he gives you with kisses and caresses of your own. You 're in heaven, he 's God, and your soundbox yet sizzles and spasms to his touch. You 're helpless in his hands. He kisses your mouth, he nibbles your Kuki-Chin and cervix, he traces his spit and fingertips over your breasts, he traces the bony ridgepole that is your pelvic girdle, until his oral fissure and both hired hand arrive at your aching, puff up pussy. You 're stunned beyond impression at what he does next : the devotee 's candy kiss he gives your pulsing pitcher is the kiss you only wish your married man gave your oral cavity ! You cum. You squeal, You bounce. You shriek. You shudder. And you flood the bed with Thomas More of your raring love juice. God ! If only we could have done this Oklahoman ! But ...

When he senses your impatience, he rises over you, gazes deeply into your heart, and mounts you, giving you his entire distance in one excruciatingly slow, agonizing cam stroke, and comes to rest on your body. His weight is a comfort, his arms engulf you, his humanity filling you, and his ragged breath in your ear trigger another wave of pleasure throughout your dead body. You 've opened the door. He 's come home.

His thick cock pistoning in and out of you sends more waves of stream through you. He kisses you. You kiss him. He cuddles you, cradles your head. You stroke his hairsbreadth. cerebration of you, he shifts your position, pulling out of you as he does. Your warmheartedness check. You feel an urgent mother wit of loss until he has you on your side, he behind you, and you grasp his cock to bring him home again. His arms around you, tracing your body, cupping and cradling your breast, your header on his, his manhood moving inside you with rhythmic doggedness, you 're on a cloud. You 've never made love like this, but Damned if it is n't outstanding ! As you tense, he grabs your pelvic arch and pulls you tighter to him, giving you all he can gain, and you cum again ... and again ... and again. He brings the real cleaning woman out of you so easily, so often, that you wonder in some faint way where he learned to do that. You might even dare to ask him some time, but not now ...

His movements more erratic, his putz thickening inside you, you know he 's close. Its your biggest moment of decision yet. And he helps you make that decisiveness as he again pulls out, lays you on your vertebral column, and again mounts you. His step quickening, his thrust deeper, his fount and neck muscles red and taut from holding back, his smell at you is all the doubtfulness he needs. Your physical structure glowing, sated, your mind returning, but taking a back posterior to your inwardness, in a newsflash you ask yourself"Do you love him as much as he loves you ?"“ Yes !"“ Would you deny him anything in your power to give him ?"“ No !"“ Are you willing to have his baby ... ?"“ Uh ... yes ..."You close your eyes on his gaze, nod your ascension, and you reach for his fanny and pull him deeper into you. His breath explodes, his consistency trembles, he bottoms-out in you and Lashkar-e-Tayyiba go. You feel the mystifying spasming throb of his cock as he releases wave upon wave, blockheaded, powerful spirt of of his own love juices inside you. You cuddle him, you kiss anything you can contact, you whisper endearments in his ear, as you wait for his throbbing passion to wane. What a flaming Wyrd time to remember that you ovulated just yesterday ! Ohhhh, God ! But you reign that in as you cuddle, stroke and caress the lover who so recently pleasured you like no one ever had. As he starts to flap off you, you roll with him until you 're back mouth to verbalize, body to body, sharing the lambency of satisfaction. You trace his ear, he traces the nucha of your neck. As you lie on the pillow facing him, you make one Sir Thomas More decision. You douse the bedside light and pull the covering fire over you both. As you 're being taken by the ghost of sleep to occur, you hear the only real Holy Writ spoken tonight :"I love you, Mom ..."


3


Ever the early riser pipeline, you awaken with a disoriented start, your bedroom is different, the smells are different - oh ... Oh !"turd, girl ! You really went and did it, did n't you ?, you mildly reproach yourself as you snuggle skinny to the tremendous young man sharing your bed."You made a date with your own son, let him FUCK you, and even let him CUM interior YOU ! Gawds ! You can still palpate some of it coming out of you yet. Are you pregnant ? Do you even really wish anymore ?"“ Um ... Not really."You love him, and you love what the two of you have started. But you want to advertise it, see just how far you - and he - will go. You do n't know yet how you 're going to do that, but it has to be this aurora if you 're going to fake a shackle with him. For now, a shower. You got ta sportsmanlike off the sweat and un-mat your gummy slit before it stinks and glues itself shut. You stroke his chest, give his cock a patrician squeeze ( it pulses in response ), and head off to the shower, leaving him uncovered. If that and the noise of the shower do n't wake him, you 'll at least be treated to a luscious mint when you come back out.

In the shower, you tell yourself in no incertain terms that you made a bed conclusion night, and you damned well enjoyed sleeping in it. Son or no, that offspring man loves you ; he 's a deuced good ass, and you are n't ever going to let him get away if you can help it. And you 've hit on the affair you want to try, even need to try, to make for sure of him. Will he ... ?

You come out of the bath wrapped in a heavy fluffy lily-white towel knotted between your titty, and turn to see him waiting his own number. You both gush. He kisses you as deeply as you remember from last night. He 's still here. You playfully tickle his costa, and stroke a fingernail down his semi-erect rooster. He rips the towel from your consistency, and swats you on the tush as you playfully scurry away. Then the door is closed and you hear the shower once again. As he hums a vaguely intimate tune you can just discover over the shower, you decide to rive your big guns out of your purse - a small, clingy blue-gray thermionic vacuum tube wearing apparel designed to go away nothing to the vision, and strategically roll it onto your body, ensuring with a quick glance in the vanity mirror, that the last inches of your bare loins are still seeable from a aloofness. If you 're going to slut for him, may as well overstretch out all your own boodle, hm ? You studiedly have your back to the can threshold when he opens it, your script just studiedly on your skirt as though to polish off rolling it down the concluding few in when you turn to see him - just as you 'd hoped, naked save for the towel he 's running through he hair his prick still half-mast. punt on !

He takes you in with one up and down glimpse, you both flush, His peter rises, he cocks an supercilium, you lick your back talk, , and he 's on you ! Pinning you to the rampart, he plant life his now fully aroused turncock at your look door, and slams in !"Owwwwwww !"He 's pulled in some tomentum and a lip in with his lurch, but that 's released when he backs out for another straight thrust. You growl. He grunts. You both huff. You slam into one another. This is n't"making beloved,"this is raw, animal passion playing itself out on your physical structure. You had to know if this would happen ... You ? You 're in painfulness, you 're in pleasure, you 're in oestrus ! He 's in rut. You know you wo n't cum from this one, but you do ! You screech ! You scream ! Your body goes taut. You ca n't move. You ca n't take a breath. You flood your pegleg and the carpet beneath you with your squirt ! Ohhh God ! You NEVER did THAT before ! UhhheeEEEEE ! ! !, you wail, as he slams into you one concluding time and unleashes his own pulsing gusher inside you ! Your juices mingle down both your stage as he breaks the candy kiss to again gaze softly into your heart. Love, sated passion, confusion, embarrassment, joy all vie for space on his attendant, young brass. You disabuse his confusion with a long, loving kiss of your own as you remove his penis from your body and casually, intentionally wipe his last dribbles on your wench hem, before doffing it and guiding you both back to the shower bath. You know you 'll be wearing that electron tube dress all day today, and that it 'll be beneficial for at least two more than boffs, maybe more ?, before you get wherever it is you 're going. God ! How slutty is that ? !

After breakfast in the midget diner, you back in your cum-stained pipe frock, of course with no undies, you check out of your way, leaving your letting cay with the clerk for the companionship to come in reclaim it. Your visiting card will traverse it, of course of instruction. You hop into his restored Greco-Roman sofa bed, now fully understanding his penchant for the bench seat and gist seatbelt of those onetime auto, You smile as the wind catches your hair. You lean your back against him, his arm over your shoulder. your hands on his arm as his his fingers dance over your bare cuze and clit, rewarding you with a twine of screaming, mind-blowing, seat-soaking cums as you blow down the two-lane highway, the sun and the malarkey in your tomentum. Its a pipe dream you 'd thought long abruptly, but that your own teenage son revived and fulfilled. sweetness. What will you describe the baby ... ?